


kill not the body, but the mind.

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Series: soft wwii boyfriends [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ?????? idk how diagnosis works, Alters, Amnesia, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Children, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Multiplicity/Plurality, Murder, Non-Graphic Smut, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Recovered Memories, Recovery, Self-Harm, Swearing, Therapy, Violent Thoughts, child alters, fronting, i actually have osdd so system bucky is very special to me, james "bucky" barnes has did - dissociative identity disorder, listen let me live, no capitals sorry lmao, persecutor alter, system terminology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-16 02:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15427374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: james barnes cannot fight alone forever.





	kill not the body, but the mind.

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based on this:  
> "sundownwinter: 22. don't kill their body. kill their mind.  
> leave the physical shell walking and talking, but strip out everything that made that person who they were. make them forget all about their loved ones, themselves, their experiences and past, their skills, and have them have to start over completely from scratch. physical and mental disabilities bonus points.  
> and keep them in a place where their loved ones will be taunted every day by a living ghost."

when a man dies, he is buried.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

days and nights spent alone, unable to sleep and with nothing to eat or to drink. 

* * *

a man can only die once.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

a sick mother who could no longer care for him, a sick best friend who never bothered to care for himself.

a letter briefly telling of his father's death.

falling,

     f a l l i n g,

          f

            a

               l

                 l

                   i

                     n

                       g.

the cold.

the chair.

and then nothing.

wiped away like a footprint in the sand,

leaving only coldness and sharp rocks and pieces of shells.

 

and then the chair again.

always,

always back to the chair.

* * *

a man with no memory is truly alone.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

 _you have a mission_ the soldier said.  _you must kill captain america._

"shut up," he said as he washed his hair.

_you must accomplish your mission._

" _you_ must shut the fuck up."

the soldier huffed and resigned himself.

bucky sighed. "okay. uh, james buchanan barnes. 107th infantry regiment. i was born march twelfth- no, tenth. march tenth, 1917. i had three siblings, uh . . ."

_becky!_

"right, rebecca was one of them. thanks, jamie."

the boy smiled. he smiled too. 

_you remember the others, right?_

"i think so." he racked his brain for a moment. "fred was the youngest."

_mhmm! and in the middle?_

"uh, ethel?"

_edith._

"close, but no cigar."

_maybe a little bit of a cigar?_

"you're too lenient, jamie."

_you gave it a good shot!_

* * *

a man in love will stop at nothing.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

his hands weave their way expertly up his husband's chest, teasing at his soft skin. he loves this. he loves  _steve_. he's fought and died for this, and he savours this sensation of flesh against flesh and feeling of safety whenever he can.

 _you can do it right now_ , the soldier says. he furrows his brow.

_not now, you asshole._

_but you could. put your hands around his throat- you know he likes it. then you could just keep them there. squeeze the life from him. crush his windpipe. you could do it. accomplish your mission. kill him. kill him. kill him. kill-_

he groans and grips steve's hips harder, pushing him away. "s-stop."

"buck?"

he pulls his hands back and curls into himself, one hand covering his head. "'m sorry, stevie," he says into his knees.

steve strokes his hair and kisses his knuckles. "don't be."

* * *

a man can only and always control one thing; himself.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

"what'd i do?"

"you didn't do anything," steve said, cleaning flour from the kitchen floor. "soldier got really pissed and knocked shit flying."

"he didn't-"

"no, no. he seemed . . ." he sighed. "he seemed more angry at himself, honestly."

bucky knelt down and started picking up pieces of the broken bowl. "how could you tell?"

"well, for one, he wasn't chewing me out." he smiled a little. "but he just seemed distracted. maybe confused." he shrugged. "i'unno. it was just different."

_slice your hand open._

"did he even say anything to you?"

_your legs, your arms, your stomach, your face. cut and slice until you're only ribbons of flesh peeling off of your bones and your blood and guts fill the house._

"no, which is weird. usually when he takes control he at least says something about failing his mission."

_yank out one of your eyeballs and squish it until it pops like a grape._

"who was it you said you were seeing to help you adjust and shit?"

* * *

the one to know a man best will always be himself.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.

"you want me to go in there with you?"

god, he wanted more than anything to be able to say no. but he nodded. so steve stood, took his hand (his _human_ hand, his  _real_ hand), and gave it a gentle squeeze. he returned the gesture as they followed the woman to her office.

"so. my name is cathy pimm, but you can call me doctor pimm or cathy, whatever makes you most comfortable." she opened up her laptop. "you said something about people living in your head, can you tell me a little about that?"

bucky swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. he glanced at steve out of the corner of his eye for help.

"'t's my first time doin' this," he mumbled.

"that's completely understandable. a lot of veterans might feel like they don't need therapy after what they've experienced, but i'm glad you have such a supportive husband."

he shrugged. "we've always been there for each other. ever since we were kids. he'd get his ass handed to 'im, i'd have to swoop in and save him from getting himself killed." he chuckled a little. "the first time was, what . . . 28? we were eleven."

"yes," steve said, just the slightest bit exasperated. "someone was pulling florence arthur's hair-"

"and you had the  _biggest_ crush on her."

"how do you only remember the embarrassing things?"

"how do you still remember her name?"

"if you remember my crush on her, you know i liked her all through middle school, too."

"you sure did,  _romeo_."

"i- wait, you went way off topic."

"you're the one who wanted to tell the story!"

"well, tell a story about soldier and jamie."

bucky shifted his gaze to cathy, who was doing her best not to laugh at their bickering.

"right." he cleared his throat. "right, right." he clasped his hands. "should i start at the beginning, or- i-i've never, uh-"

"wherever feels right."

"okay." he rubbed his hands together. the cold metal of his left palm soothed him slightly. smooth and cool and constant. "well, uh, for a long time, i've . . . i guess i've heard voices? two are more prominent than the others."

"are they from outside your head, or inside?"

"inside, i think. i mean, hearing them isn't like hearing you, or steve. it's like, uh. it's like thinking. that sounds stupid."

"no, it doesn't sound stupid. keep going."

he puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "okay. so, the first one kinda started talking when my mom died, way way back in . . . i wanna say 25."

"she got sick in 23," steve supplied, "it was 24 when she died."

"right, yeah. sorry."

"dude, stop apologizing for that. you had your entire life scooped outta your brain. it's understandable if you forget shit sometimes." he made a motion like he was going to cover his mouth. "is that-"

"we're all grownass adults, steve," cathy said cooly. "you're allowed to swear."

steve sighed. "cool. cool. anyway, uh." he motioned to bucky. "continue, buck."

bucky looked over cathy's expression. "you're sure you're getting this? I mean, I'm not trying to be rude- but usually when we talk about shit that happened in the 20s people look at us like we're nuts."

"until they see me."

"yeah, then they want pictures with him. captain america, y'know?"

"no, i was briefed beforehand. i get what happened."

"okay. uh, anyway, his name is jamie. he's kinda like a younger version of me? he started out around five, but i'd put him at- what did you say, steve?"

"twelve."

"yeah, twelve. and he agreed with twelve. but the other one- we call him soldier. he doesn't really have a name. he only showed up when i woke up back in, uh."

"2014."

"yeah. 2014. so he's been around for, what, three years?"

"around there?"

"yeah. but he's an adult. always has been. and i don't think he actually has an age like me or jamie. he just kinda . . . exists."

"and do you ever experience periods of lost time? like, for example, if you were to be eating something that jamie really likes. would you seem to blink and it would be gone without you remembering having eaten it?"

"i mean, buck's a pretty fast eater."

bucky absently smacked steve's arm with a smile, earning a laugh from the other man. "that's not what she means, jackass."

steve held up his hands in mock surrender.

"but, uh, yeah. that'll happen sometimes. why?"

"because, just from what you've told me, it sounds like you have a form of dissociative disorder."

* * *

 a man who has lost himself has truly lost everything.

this was not the case for james buchanan barnes of the 107th infantry regiment.


End file.
